


Just Another Night

by Sira



Category: NCIS, The Closer
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2010-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon Raydor never forgot prom, never forgot the man who was her first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Thank you, ufp13 . This little wonder worker gave the story an ending and didn't complain once while she worked on correcting my mistakes. You are TEH best! *huggles*  
> All remaining mistakes are mine.

Finding him in her office, where he sat on her chair, looking right at home, she didn’t know if to slap or kiss him. Somehow, she had the urge to do both. In which order, she wasn’t quite sure. He was the last person she’d expected here, wanted here, but now that she was faced with him once more, she could feel something inside her stir. Damn this man.

“Gibbs, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve got to talk to you about a case.”

“A case.”

What had she expected? She sighed.

“Get up. Talk.”

They passed each other, and damn her for wanting to touch him.

His hand on her waist made her stop.

“You look good.”

It was what he always said when they met after years had passed once more.

“Why don’t we talk over dinner?”

And that was how it always started. Not this time. Sitting down on her chair, she gesticulated for him to take the visitor chair. He waited for her answer that didn’t come even a minute later. When it became obvious she wouldn’t relent, he finally sat down.

“Come on, Shar.”

Lifting her hand, she shook her head.

“I like you, loved you and don’t want you in my bed tonight. So you have a case, what is it about?”

He chuckled. “I see you still don’t mince words.”

“Yes, and I still don’t like to waste time either.”

“You’re pissed with me.”

“And you’re here because of a case.”

“Come on, Sharon.”

 

“You talk, I listen, and maybe I’ll talk.”

She wouldn’t tell him, as he had enough ego on any given day, but she enjoyed bantering with him, began feeling glad he was here. The last months had been stressful to say the least, and her strenuous relationship with Chief Johnson hadn’t helped either. People didn’t like Internal Affairs, all but detested FID, and her feud with the chief had secured her a limelight she didn’t want and didn’t need. Gibbs, someone who knew better than to judge her by her job alone, was a welcome distraction.

He nodded. “Alright. One of the LAPD’s officers shot one of our guys, Jimmy Baker, last night. Baker was on shore leave, visiting his girlfriend. They say Baker threatened your officer with a weapon, but strangely enough, no weapon turned up.”

Sharon knew the case, one of her subordinates was working it. She nodded.

“I know the case. The question is what reason would Cairns, the shooter, have for shooting Baker. As far as we know right now, they didn’t know each other, hadn’t met before.”

They discussed the case for a while longer, and it looked as if, for the first time, they’d really have to work together. Sharon didn’t know what to think about it. To have Gibbs close was a dangerous thing under the best of circumstances.

Leaning back in his seat, Gibbs studied her.

“And now why don’t you tell me why you’re mad at me?”

Why, oh why did this man have to be her weakness? The smile he directed at her made her want to smile back, and although she resisted the urge, it was a battle hard won.

“Maybe I didn’t appreciate the fact you walked out on me last time.”

Not that she’d been surprised when she woke up in her hotel room, finding out she was all alone. He might have left a note, but somehow, she’d expected more than ‘I enjoyed this conference, but even more I enjoyed you’.  
Jethro Gibbs. Sometimes, she thought he was the curse of her life. No matter how fast she ran, this part of her past, he always seemed to catch up with her. Looking at him, she had to say he hadn’t changed all that much. She could still see the boy he had been.

A woman never forgot prom, never forgot the man who was her first. Sharon wasn’t any different, hadn’t forgotten the first boy, just turning man, in her bed either. Although, it hadn’t been exactly a bed but the backseat of his car. Still, it had been a night to remember.

His kisses had been sweet. His hands dancing all over her body had felt good. She had wanted him as much he had wanted her, and instead of the pain her cynical mind had expected, she had found pleasure. He’d been her first, but she hadn’t been his, and his experience had made sure her desire ratcheted until she arched up to him, wanting him deeper, closer while spasms of pleasure overwhelmed her.

It had been a special night, and she’d believed him when he left for college, telling her they’d make it work. He had made it work, a fact she could convince herself of when she went to visit him and found him in some other’s arm. At least, he had had the decency to fall in love and marry her.

He sighed, and she could see she’d rattled his composure at least a little.

“You know who I am.”

She did. Life had broken him as much as it had broken her. Once in a while, their paths intersected, but they both couldn’t and didn’t want to admit it for their own respective reasons. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her, and last time, he had. She couldn’t know what he had felt, but to her, it had been as if they had made love, not just slacked a need. The sweet nothings he’d whispered in her ear, the way he’d showered her face with soft kisses had mattered, and for a few blissful hours, she’d allowed herself to believe he wanted more than just a brief distraction. She should’ve known better.

“I do. And that’s the reason why I won’t have dinner with you, won’t take you home with me, and, let’s be clear here, won’t have sex with you.”

He took her rejection in stride, matched the smile she gave him with one of his own. Getting up, he rounded the desk, not giving her the chance to catch up with what he was doing, kissed her briefly before pulling away.

“I’ve got to check some angles. How we compare notes tomorrow?”

She hadn’t expected him to cave in that easily, was disappointed he had.

“Sure. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

He was gone a minute later, leaving her baffled and more than a bit frustrated.

***

Coming home rather late in the evening, frozen pizza in her bag, she stopped at the sight of Gibbs leaning against her door.

“It’s not quite tomorrow if I’m not wrong,” she said.

“A reason not let me in?”

“Just one reason of many.”

“We can always discuss those inside.”

Usually, she admired people with a relentless streak. She wasn’t quite different herself. But Gibbs…In the last twenty years, she couldn’t remember one incident when they had met they hadn’t ended up in bed. If she was honest, she enjoyed being with him, and it wasn’t as if anyone was waiting for her. There was one man, there was potential, but she’d be damned to make the first move. If he stopped pining for the woman he couldn’t have and made a move, a good one, she wouldn’t say no, but so far, they seemed light years away from any revelation. So why not letting Gibbs in? He’d be gone in the morning anyway.

Keeping her face impassive, she let him proceed through the door, closed it with her foot behind them. He was fast, he always was, and had her pinned to the door in a second, his hands right and left of her face. She might have tried to push him away, but not with the grocery bag in one hand and her purse and keys in the other.  
“Didn’t you miss me at least a little?”

He had the bluest eyes she knew on a man, and she seldom got enough of looking at him. Maybe it was impossible to forget one’s first love.

Ducking under his arms, she made her way to her kitchen.

“I can offer you half a frozen pizza.”

He had followed her – of course, he had – was leaning against her kitchen counter.

“I wait until it’s heated.”

“Funny, Gibbs.”

“Always.”

He wanted to play her. Alright. Maybe it was simply time she played him. It didn’t do to underestimate her, something quite a few people had learned over time. Putting her groceries, including the pizza, away for the moment, she faced Gibbs.

“We don’t want to play the same game again, do we?”

He rounded the kitchen counter, tipped up her chin with a finger.

“Why not?”

“Because it gets old.”

“And here I thought we were good together.”

They were, always had been.

“Do you think that’s enough?”

He didn’t answer, leaned in to kiss her. She’d expected the move, welcomed it, even parted her lips to his questioning tongue without the slightest hesitation. They might dance around the subject, but in the end, it would all boil down to the same old story. Although this time, she planned a variation of the tune.

Melting into his kiss, she didn’t resist when he walked them back toward her bedroom. Maybe it should disturb her that he knew her house so well it could be his own, but it didn’t. Gibbs and she were connected in a way she’d never quite understood but hadn’t questioned either. They understood each other, didn’t nurture any expectations. It was good. She knew the game, the rules, enjoyed playing with him.

Although sometimes, it wasn’t quite enough; sometimes, she wanted more. She doubted he knew what he was doing to her, and she’d be the last to tell him. One didn’t try to catch the wind, and she didn’t fancy getting her heart broken by him once more. She rather settled for what she could have when he was around and forgot him for the time he wasn’t.

Once in her bedroom, she turned them, answered his raised eyebrow with an innocent smile and kissed him until she needed oxygen.

“Sit down,” she ordered.

“Is this a new game?” he asked.

The both weren’t passive lovers, control passing easily from one to the other. But it hadn’t happened that she insisted on leading the dance that early in the game before. Maybe because it had always been him finding her, seducing her.

“No. But if you want me, you’ll comply.”

With her hands on her hips, she waited, suppressed the smirk when he sat down.

“Shoes,” she said, pointing at his boots, feeling amused when he only toed them off.

“Lie down. Hold on to the headboard. I want to take my time getting reacquainted. I deserve that much after our last time, don’t I?”

The chuckle he gave made her heart melt just a little. She’d only have to close her eyes to see him as he’d been when they had first been together. His hair had still been dark, but his eyes had been of the same piercing blue. Even in early years, he’d combined easiness and intelligence with a healthy dose of cynic observation. If life had hardened him, roughened the edges, she had never commented on it. She, too, had been toughened by pain and failure, and all the regret in the world couldn’t change the past.

When he’d taken up a position on the back, she got out of her heels and jacket, straddled him without hesitation. He looked good in her bed, and she wanted him, wanted him enough to contemplate forgetting her plan and take him now, give in to the physical pull and lose herself. Only good she knew how to be patient, to show restraint.  
Leaning down, she kissed him softly this time, her kisses deep and lingering, mapping her favourite place, taking in his taste. She’d never told him, but her physical reactions to him were stronger than they were with other men. Something about him had her crave him, want him with a fierceness that would consume her if she didn’t reign in her feelings.

Prying her lips away from his, she sat up once more, granted herself a moment to just look at him: his gray hair, soft to the touch, the lines life had carved into his face, his blue eyes watching her with expectation. Jethro Gibbs, the only vice she never could say no to. But she couldn’t allow her gaze to linger, couldn’t give in to the feelings buried deeply inside her.

“Hands,” she reminded him.

“Kinky,” he said.

She only smiled, not giving voice to the ‘gotcha’ wanting to fall off her lips. Tasting the sweetness of his mouth once more, she stole both of their breaths. Quietly, she opened the drawer of her nightstand. For once, he was occupied enough not to notice what she was doing. It was good to know she could still kiss a man senseless if she wanted to. Controlling the kiss, she penetrated his mouth, stroked his tongue with hers, the tips of their tongues flicking against each other, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her panties were damp, her sex throbbed, and all they had done so far was kiss.

The click of the cuff surprised him enough to break the connection, trying to yank his arms free. Looking at her in disbelief, he shook his head.

“Sharon?”

“Yes, Jethro.”

“This is a joke, right?”

She got up from the bed, began to undress slowly, taking her time to open one button of her blouse after the other.

“Does it look like one?”

“Okay, funny. Now let me go.”

“I’ll let you go when I’m done with you.”

Something flared in his eyes. “Which means?”

“That I told you this was a bad idea. You didn’t want to listen to me, and I simply made sure you won’t slip away before I want you to this time.”

He glared at her, but she just held his gaze, waited until he seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be released until she wanted him to.

“How did you cuff me that quickly anyway?”

“Practice.”  
The look he gave her nearly proved to be her undoing. As is she had a habit of cuffing men to her bed. Although, it might be worth a thought. She was a cop, a good one, had learned to be prepared and always honed her reflexes. That it would come in handy this way, she hadn’t expected, but here they were.

“You’re beautiful.”

The honesty in his words made her stop in her motions.

“You need glasses.”

“No, Sharon, you’re beautiful.”

“I’m over fifty.”

“And the most beautiful woman I know.”

He meant it, she knew he meant it, and her knees became weak.

Dammit, Jethro, she thought. Don’t do that to me. Not again.

She didn’t want to feel for him, didn’t want to remember how much she had enjoyed sharing her thoughts with him, how much she’d yearned to give him her heart. But she’d been a teenager back then. Times had changed, hadn’t they?

“Where are you going?” he asked when she got up.

She only smiled, continued stripping out of her clothes piece by piece. His eyes tracked her every movement, darkened when she revealed more and more of her skin.

The years had taken their toll on her, and although she still deemed herself an attractive woman, she couldn’t compare to the twenty-somethings. But the way he looked at her gave her the feeling she didn’t need to, that she was what he wanted. It made her skin flush, her breathing speed up.

Clad only in her bra and panties, she winked at him before she turned and left the room. He called after her, but she ignored him, deciding to let him wonder if and when she’d be back. If part of her wanted revenge for the many times he’d walked out on her, she didn’t question it. She deserved a bit of retaliation.

In her kitchen, she went right to the freezer, emptied a batch of ice cubes into a bowl, humming softly while doing so. She hadn’t forgotten her threat from eight years ago. It had been a hot night in Savannah, the third wedding of a mutual friend. They had flirted all night, had had too much to drink, and ending up in her hotel room, he’d bound her hands with her silken scarf. She hadn’t minded, couldn’t bring herself to think. Not when his mouth had seemed to be everywhere, mapping each inch of her skin, leaving her sweaty, aroused and this close to coming. This bastard really had had the nerve to get up and leave her bound on the bed when she’d been about to climax. She’d wondered for the longest time if any of the neighbours had heard, had cared about her crude curses. He had been back within five minutes, had gotten his hands of ice cubes. She’d never forget that orgasm, didn’t have one quite like this one when he’d circled her clit with a chip of ice, the warm tip of his tongue flicking against it. He’d been unbearably smug afterwards, but for once, she had been too far gone to care. The whole night had been magic, and she’d been high on endorphins until she woke up to find him gone, a goodbye note on her nightstand.

Sharon Raydor didn’t have many weaknesses, but Jethro Gibbs was one of them. It was a well-guarded secret, one she held close to her heart. Let people think she was an ice queen, she didn’t care. She’d rather have them believe that than knowing one blue-eyed man could make her heart ache.

Sashaying back into her bedroom, she watched him looking from her to the bowl, recognition visible in his eyes after just a few seconds. One could say many things about Gibbs, but never that he wasn’t smart.

“You don’t want to…”

She nodded. “I do. You don’t mind a bit of ice, do you?” She knew the look in her eyes belied the innocence in her voice.

“I’d rather think you make me hot.”

“You should know that the ice can burn as much as the brightest fire.”

Placing the bowl on the nightstand for the moment, she began unbuttoning his shirt but stopped at the second button. When would she get such a chance again? Most likely never. Ripping the shirt, she enjoyed the way his eyes widened.

“I like that shirt.”

“Too bad.”

She worked on his pants next, had him naked apart of the open shirt in less than a minute. His cock was hard, and unable to withstand the urge, she closed her hand around it, enjoyed the velvety feel of his skin. Resisting a taste for the moment, she smiled at him, straddling him once more, kissing him languidly as if they had all the time in the world. He returned her kiss with equal fervour, bucking against her. Someone clearly was interested in moving things along. Too bad he wasn’t in any position to hurry her. Reaching for the first ice cube, she held it for a moment.

“What would you like me to do with it?”

His eyes gleamed with humour. “If you ask like that. Get out of your bra, run it over your breasts, tease your nipples.”

It was one of the things that made sex with him incredible. This man knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to voice or take it. Although she hadn’t planned to indulge him at all, the thought held appeal, so she did as he asked, got out of the red satin bra, her nipples already hard.

Slowly, she circled the tip of her breast with the cold ice, hissing when it first made contact. When she touched it to her nipple, pleasure flooded her body, settling at the apex of her thighs. She repeated the motions with her other breast, only to realise that she was undermining her own control. Gibbs had watched her the whole time, hadn’t said a word and only had studied her.

No, this wouldn’t do. Taking the now small rest of the ice, she used it to trail it along his collarbone, watching how his skin puckered where the ice touched it. He let out the faintest of groans.

“I make you a deal. If you manage not to make a sound until the next ice cube is molten, I’ll grant you a wish. I won’t untie you, but if it’s a reasonable wish, I’ll make it happen.”

“I should’ve known not to gamble with you.”

“Yeah, you should have. Deal?”

“Deal.”

She took her time, teased him the best she could, starting with running the cube over his lips, his chest, his sides, the insides of his arms before she caressed his nipples. His breathing was harsh, his body taut, but he didn’t make a sound. She knew it was a battle hard won, and he impressed her.

“So what’s your wish?” she asked when the ice had melted.

“Suck me.” His voice was hoarse, his eyes conveying a desire that could easily threaten to consume them both.

But he’d made a wish. Not that it was a hardship; she’d always liked pleasuring men this way. Stupidly, men thought they were in a position of control when a woman gave them oral pleasure, but in fact, it was the woman who wielded all the power at that moment. She controlled how much pleasure he felt, how close to the brink she wanted him to get.

Turning around, she leaned over him, gave his hard length one long lick. He groaned.

“Come closer,” he asked her, and she knew she’d been taunting him with having her sex rest so close to his face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I want to taste you.”

Did he? Ignoring him for the moment, she slowly engulfed his length in her mouth, sinking lower inch by inch, enjoying to feel him throb inside her mouth. She’d missed this, missed this with him. Damn this guy for giving up on something so good again and again.

Setting a slow rhythm, she closed a hand around his cock, working him with her fingers, her mouth and her tongue at the same time. Once in a while, she teased the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the sounds of pleasure he couldn’t contain.

“Dammit, Shar, give me something to play with as well,” he bit out after some long minutes had passed. To do that she’d have to get rid of her panties, and somehow, she didn’t feel inclined to move. So she scooted closer, but only to reach for a chip of ice. Feeling his hot breath through her panties, teasing her, a tremor ran through her body.

“Get out of them,” he tried to command, but she hummed her disagreement, running the ice cube over his testicles, enjoying his hiss and how the sensitive skin puckered. Following the cold with the heat of her mouth, repeating the same with his cock, she had him soon bucking underneath her. All the while, his mouth did its best to drive her to distraction, her panties soaked from both sides, as he worked his tongue over her folds, not bothering there was a barrier. When the ice cube was only half its original size, she paused, stroking his cock with her hand while letting the ice melt in her mouth. Swallowing the rest, she closed her lips around his hard flesh again. He gasped, moaned, spoke her name as if was salvation and a curse at the same time.

She sucked him hard, demanding, knew when he was about to come, when it was time to pull away. They weren’t teenagers any longer, and she wouldn’t render him useless this way for several hours only because she couldn’t show a bit of restraint.

Releasing his cock from her mouth, she sat up, arranged herself so she came to sit between his legs. If anyone asked her, he looked nothing short of delicious.

“I want you,” she said, reaching for an ice cube without breaking eye contact with him once.

“Then take me?” he suggested.

She shook her head, using the ice to run it all along the length of his chest and up again, repeating the motion.

“I wonder if I should simple keep you tied up this time.”

“Why that?” he asked, arching up when she reached his cock.

“Because then you won’t slip out of here in the middle of the night.”

“Would you want me to stay?”

She stopped her movement, the ice cube resting forgotten somewhere over his navel. If she had sworn one thing to herself, then it was that she wouldn’t admit to any feelings toward him at all. He made it hard for her, but she wouldn’t risk it.

“How would you like it to wake up and find your sometimes lover gone one time after the other.”

“I don’t know. I thought what we have is uncomplicated.”

What a male thing to say. She didn’t respond.

“You matter, Sharon. Matter to me. I…”

Somehow she didn’t want to know, didn’t want to ruin what seemed to be a pretty fine night after all. Taking up the ice and putting it in his mouth, she quickly shrugged out of her panties, straddled him again.

“No matter what, we were always good when it came to this,” she said, positioning his cock at her entrance. And they were, always had been. Taking him in slowly, she closed her eyes, braced herself with her hands at his shoulders. It felt good to welcome him into her body, and she wanted him, body and soul. She didn’t pine for him when he wasn’t around, but she knew she’d miss him for a day or two after he’d be gone.

“Shit, Shar, you feel good.”

He felt good, too, but the time for talking had passed her by. This time, she’d use him for her pleasure as she saw fit.

Circling her hips, she set a slow, steady rhythm, trying for the right angle. Once she’d found it, she moved faster, grinding against him on each down-stroke. It was amazing, but still not enough.

She heard him groan, felt him thrust in counter rhythm to her as good as he could, but she ignored him. For the moment, her pleasure was all that mattered. Reaching between them, she stroked her clit, trailing slow circles over the swollen bundle of nerves. Pleasure shot through her body like lightning, the loud moan ripped from her throat. Opening her eyes again, wanting to see him, she found his whole focus on her. There was something in his gaze, something intense that nearly looked like… No, it couldn’t be. Jethro Gibbs felt for no one apart of himself. When his family had died, part of him had died with them. He did affairs, brief relationships, but he didn’t do love.

Purposely emptying her mind and closing her eyes again, she let herself fall, going over the edge of blissful oblivion. Her body shuddered, and for a moment, she allowed herself to give in to the feeling of rightness she had when being together with this man. She noticed he kept still under her, encouraged her with soft words. Stilling, she opened her eyes, found him smiling at her.

“You’re beautiful when you come.”

“You already have me in bed, Gibbs.”

“And you know I mean it.”

She clenched her inner walls around his cock on purpose, making him groan out.

“You talk too much.”

“I’ll stop if you release me.”

She didn’t answer, started to ride him hard, enjoying his sounds of pleasure.

“Come on, Shar.”

He sounded almost desperate. She stopped, sat still.

“Will you poof again if I release you now?”

He seemed to battle with himself, finally shook his head.

“I won’t.”

Content with his answer, knowing it was the best she could hope for, she released him from his restraints. She wasn’t surprised when he flipped them over almost at once to hover above her.

“That wasn’t playing fair,” he said, nipping at her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.

“Life isn’t playing fair, and neither are you.”

He sank back into her welcoming body, stilled.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I am who I am. I can’t change.”

She didn’t want him to.

“Is saying goodbye instead of sneaking out when I’m asleep too much to ask for?”

He shook his head. “It isn’t.”

He set a slow rhythm as she locked her legs around his waist. His hands reached out to cover hers while his head bent to suckle at one of her breasts. He was gentle, almost tender, and it felt like making love. Her throat constricted, and she took a ragged breath. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel. Although she thought her body wouldn’t be able to allow for more, the way he treated her sensitive breasts, how he moved in a languid rhythm built her arousal once again until she couldn’t help herself, her hips gyrating in time with his thrusts.

He had been tender their very first time, too, had soothed her with kisses and loving words. That night he’d made her believe in love, in the future, their future. The dream had lasted for many months longer during which she had dreamed of finishing college and marrying him. Maybe they had simply been too young.

Marvelling at his control, she dug her heels into his firm backside.

“Let go.”

“Not yet.”

His skin was slick with sweat by now, his face a mask of concentration.

She squeezed his cock inside her again.

“Yes. Now.”

He let out a sound akin to a growl, his mouth seeking out hers, engaging her in a kiss that was bruising in its passion. It stole her breath, stole her thoughts, inflamed her desire until her whole focus was on their connection.

He came, his body tensing before he surged into her harder and faster, having lost his rhythm altogether.

She’d been close but knew she wouldn’t manage to finish again, so she relaxed against him, cradled him in her embrace. She loved those moments with him, when it seemed like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. She could see he was suffering whenever they met, but in brief moments like this one, he seemed to be free. He showered her face with kisses, brushed damp strands of hair off her forehead.

“You didn’t come,” he said, nibbling at her earlobe.

“I did. Earlier.”

“But not with me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. To me.”

He didn’t give her time to protest, and sliding out of her, he scooted lower on the bed, arranging her legs so they came to lie on his shoulders.

“Gibbs…”

His mouth was on her a second later, making her forget any words of protest. She knew many men would mind giving a woman oral pleasure after sex, but Gibbs didn’t. His tongue dipped into her opening several times as she fisted the sheets underneath her. Damn, it felt amazing. But it still wasn’t enough.

“Please,” she tried, and was rewarded when he slid first one then a second finger into her, his tongue flicking against her clit in a lazy rhythm. It was enough, and she shattered within a few scant minutes, riding a wave that seemed to know no beginning and no end. Sinking back against the mattress, limp and spent, she opened her eyes, looked down at Gibbs whose head was resting on her thigh.

She sighed. “We’ve got to stop meeting like that.”

“Why? Don’t you enjoy it?”

His grin was almost boyish, and she nearly returned it.

“It’s not all about fun, Gibbs.”

He came to lie beside her on his back.

“You know I can’t give you happily ever after.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Come here,” he said, holding his arm open for her. Damning herself for giving in that easily, she sought out his nearness.

“Although, sometimes, I like to think about it,” he said.

“Think about what?”

“Happily ever after.”

It was the first time he admitted to something like that.

“How does it look like your happily-ever-after?”

“Purely theoretical?”

“What else?”

“Well, I like to imagine we have a house together, somewhere near the coast. We…”

“Wait,” she looked up at him. “Did you say we?”

“Yeah, I did.

“Gibbs, there is no we.”

He turned onto his side, looked at her.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t wish there was one from time to time.”

What was she supposed to reply to that? If wishes were horses… but they weren’t.

“It’s not up to me, is it?”

He reached out, let his fingers comb through her hair again and again.

“Sometimes, I wish everything had worked out differently.”

“When and where?”

“Right at the beginning.”

“We were too young.”

“I was an idiot.”

“There is that, yeah.”

He closed his eyes, opened them again after a moment.

“I’ve got this friend.”

“This friend?”

Reaching out, her hand played with his sprinkle of chest hair.

“Yeah, at the police. Fact is…,” he trailed off.

 

“Jethro, spill it.”  
It wasn’t like him to be lost for words, to struggle with saying anything.

“The position of Deputy Chief is going to be vacant in a month time. I hinted I might know someone to fill it.”  
Her eyes searched his gaze long and hard for a hint of any emotion, for confirmation that he was really saying what she thought he was saying. Could it be true? Could he possibly – still, again – want a them after all these years, after all they’ve been through, after all he had done, done to her? Taking the chance he hinted at, giving them that chance would change her life, a life she generally liked despite its downsides. Was she willing to sacrifice that for this chance? Could she trust him enough to not hurt her, to not crush her heart again because he had changed his mind – for another woman, out of fear of commitment?

His mentioning of his dream including a them before going even a step further and hinting at a real possibility for them to be closer had surprised her, shocked her in a way. Her mind was nearing overload, trying to make sense of all the implications.

She couldn’t make a decision now, needed to think this through, preferably without his presence influencing her heart and thus her mind in his favour.

Overwhelmed, not quite sure how to react, she pressed her lips softly against his before cuddling against him, hoping he would understand her need for time to process what had happened within the last minutes, the last hours.

“Stay?” she whispered, almost pleaded.

His arms tightened around her slender body while he breathed a kiss onto the top of her head – a wordless answer just like hers. She could only hope it meant what she thought it did.

The End.


End file.
